One of the 187,654,362,874 reasons why I love my little sister:
"How do you explain that at 5:00 every day, you feel as if your heart might burst and the world shatters into a thousand thin blades of glass that lacerate your gut and make you want to fling yourself weeping from somewhere high to something flat, hard, and unyielding, so as to explode the pressure once and for all? Sometimes i feel as if i might just burst into flames, i feel my chest burning with a slow embryonic ember heat that howls to claw its way free and expose itself to the oxygen ignition. There are people with one long, endless scream going on within them and those are the ones my blood responds to and my instinct insect ticks towards, invisible scent on the wind unrelated to intelligence or common belief. It’s a sense apart from the animal and a part of the animal simultaneously somehow. I suppose it’s what makes me love some complete assholes, and other soft-spoken gentle people with bombs secretly ticking inside them, people with switchblade fury, no morality, or such morality that they hold it like a torch in front of them burning directly from their blood. they come from all paths, all corners, and you recognize them by the fact that they don’t give a fuck, or care too much in the world’s eyes. The possessors of a permanent, chronic fever of the soul."
